


A Lover Scorned

by sebastian_michaelishive



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Blood and Injury, Cheating, Crying, Heartbreak, I Made Myself Cry, Lotor cuts his hand on glass and pours antiseptic on it, M/M, Minor Injuries, Miscommunication, Unwanted marriage, mentions of strangulation, mentions of vomiting, or so it seems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 13:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16119671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebastian_michaelishive/pseuds/sebastian_michaelishive
Summary: Lotor thought his love meant more to Lance. It appeared that Lance didnt think so





	A Lover Scorned

**Author's Note:**

> I felt sad at 23:30 and this popped right out. It's not what it seems though.
> 
> It was not a good idea to write this while listening to The 1975 and Billie Eilish. Too many sad feels.

 

 

   Lotor watched the masses from his seat at the grand table up above, where he sat next to his betrothed, another prince from some distant planet he'd never heard of. His father had arranged the whole thing, of course, to secure an alliance with said planet. A peace treaty could have also had the same effect as well, but his father didn't believe in such things. For Zarkon, this was more binding than some simple words scribbled out on a piece of paper, for it literally would bind the two together, simultaneously securing their alliance as well. It was a shame that Lotor's heart had been bound to another before all of this.  
  
   It was a greater shame that his lover didn't seem to think the same.   
  
   The halls were filled with joy and cheery music and dancing, with the occasional toasts to the supposedly happy couple. Everyone seemed to be full of content, gulping down their drinks,  laughing as they swayed along to sweet melodies. It was no surprise that Lotor's sadness was all but drowned out in this sea of glee. He longed for his lover, longed for his Lance, but the latter all but hated him. It had been three weeks since Lotor had solemnly delivered him the news of his betrothal, heartbroken. Lance had not said a word.   
  
   "Lance?" Lotor had asked hesitantly when a full minute of tense silence had passed between them.   
  
   Lance only stared at him, face blank, but Lotor could still see his deep blue eyes darkening by the second.   
  
   "Darling," he begged, taking his hand and squeezing it desperately. "Please say something!"  
  
   He did not, only yanked his hand away from his lover's grasp, as if he had been burned, and got up from their spot in the grass. He turned his back on him and simply walked away, and Lotor's heart cracked with every step he took.   
  
   "Lance!" he had called out, "Lance, please! I love you!"  
  
   His lover did not react, leaving Lotor to grieve on his own, underneath the big, leafy caracan tree where they used to talk for hours underneath its shade, laughing without a worry as they exchanged saccharine kisses with one another.  
  
   Lotor had hoped to see Lance again the next morning, waiting for him out in one of the halls they always fled to for some alone time, or simply outside of his door like he usually did, but he was not there. He was never there anymore. Lotor kept hoping for the next week and a half, but eventually gave up, realizing the extent of Lance's anger. He cried for the first time in a while that night, feeling more miserable than ever. He was an utter mess, severely distraught about this unwanted marriage, and his lover's absence made it even worse. The thing that broke his heart the most was the fact that Lance seemed to think that it was his fault, that he wanted this, and hated him for that, choosing to ignore him instead of trying to work it all out.  
  
   1 week ignored soon became a full 3 weeks. In those 3 weeks, the court had gained a new lady, Officer Missel. Lotor had heard that she was awful pretty, and that she captivated the attention of anyone around her.  
  
   "This is all so grand," the prince whispered over to him. "This is only our official engagement party, but everyone seems to be radiating pure joy already. I can't imagine how happy they'll be at our wedding."  
  
   "Not me."  
  
   "Come again?"  
  
   Lotor took a swig of his own drink quickly before answering. "I said I agree."   
  
   "Oh," the prince said, and smiled a little, turning his attention back to the crowd.   
  
   Lotor did the same, nursing his drink slowly, scanning the crowd for no one in particular. However, his eyes soon landed on a sight that almost made him spit out what little of his drink he had in his mouth.  
  
   Out in the distance, leaning against a great pillar, wearing a smile he knew so well, was Lance. He was not alone. Instead, his eyes were glued onto Officer Missel, or Missy, as everyone called her, as they entertained a friendly conversation with each other. She grinned right back at him, giggling madly at something he had scandalously whispered into her ear. The sight made Lotor's blood boil with fervent jealousy and rage, while at the same time delivering a painful stab to his heart, as if it weren't beaten enough.   
  
   They said Missy's laugh was always pleasant to hear; addictive even, like the tinkling of bells resonating through grassy fields. Too bad the very thought made Lotor want to puke.   
  
   The sickening nausea in Lotor's stomach grew stronger and stronger the longer he watched them. He wanted so desperately to turn away and just...forget. Forget Lance, forget Missy, forget them together, forget the prince; just forget everything and continue on like nothing was weighing down on his heart, but he just could not. The sight was like a magnet for his eyes, a cruel, cruel magnet that would not let go. All he could do was watch and drink, finding his cup empty sooner than he would like, so he resorted to squeezing it instead, imaging the cup as their necks as his grip tightened with every second. He wanted so much to do nothing but strangle their wretched necks as if they were plucked chickens ready for slaughter. And then...  
  
   Her lips were on his.   
  
   Lotor did not see the look of shock that had dawned upon Lance's face, only them, frozen in a kiss for the rest of time. His heart stopped and hand closed full force, shattering the glass cup with a loud crack that seemed to shake everyone out of their happy daze.   
  
   All eyes were on him. Lance, Missy, the prince, Zarkon- everyone. The pain came in a split second later, and he whimpered pathetically as he felt the shards lodge themselves into the soft flesh of his palm, staining his fingers with dripping mahogany blood.  
  
   "Lotor," the prince gasped, reaching over to help him, but Lotor dodged his grasp as if he had the plague. He stood up abruptly, almost knocking his chair down in the process, feeling his face grow darker as hot blood rushed up to his face, obviously embarrassed  
  
   "I'm sorry," he managed, trying to find the right words. "I-I'll be fine. I can tend to it myself. I'm just tired is all, I want to go to sleep."   
  
   He gave the crowd a small smile, turning to his betrothed. "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."  
  
   Lotor did not wait for the prince's response, nor did he see Lance's anguished look as he sped off, pushing through the masses of people as he made his way to his room, cradling his injured hand to his chest as he tried his hardest to blink back tears of dejection, feeling his love crumbling to pieces as the cursed scene replayed over and over again in his head. The pain of that memory was greater than any torture he had ever been through, and it wasn't going to leave any time soon.  
  
   How could he?? Was he really so replaceable to Lance? It had not even taken him a full phoeb to get over him and find someone new, while Lotor spent weeks alone with his sorrows, grieving for their relationship. Well, at least he was happy now, wasn't he? The thought was a bitter one, and he couldn't help the snarl that came along with it as he pulled out shards of bloodied glass from his hand, staining the desk slightly.   
  
   Once he got all the little bits out, he made his way over to the bathroom, where he opened the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic. He carefully unscrewed the bottle, and proceeded to dump a whole bunch of it onto his wounds, hissing loudly as the liquid washed over raw flesh, creating a sharp, agonizing sensation that was a thousand more times more tolerable than the hurt within his soul.   
  
   Lotor never thought himself a weak man, never in his entire life. He had endured so, so much, lost so much, and still managed to push forwards without a second thought. So why, why in hell was he so distraught over this...loss? It made no sense at all in his head, none whatsoever, and so he chalked it up to the strange aftermath of a love lost, especially when it had been so strong and passionate as the one he once had.   
  
   It was rather incredulous how the joy of being in love could come right back and hit you ten times as hard as sorrow when it turned into heartache. But that's the price you pay, a friend once told him, when you take something like love for granted. It came back to haunt you and remind you why you ever fell in love with that person in the first place. Lotor supposed that was true.  
  
   He wished he would have cherished Lance's love more. Maybe he wouldn't have moved on as quickly as he did.   
  
   Lotor wished he had given Lance something to cherish.~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself cry idk why. 
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful LainaFantasy for beta-ing this!
> 
> I hope y'all liked! Kudos and comments are appreciated. So is constructive criticism.
> 
> Come yell at me on my Tumblr @yes-my-paladin!


End file.
